


talk to me tomorrow

by TetrodotoxinB



Series: MCU Kink Bingo 2017 [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bingo square: free space, Bondage, Brief discussion of race in relationships and kink negotiation, Cock Ring, Consensual Kink, D/s AU, Gag, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Scratching, Spanking, Whipping, flogger, nipple play/torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 23:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12568516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TetrodotoxinB/pseuds/TetrodotoxinB
Summary: After a rough mission, Sam and Riley blow off steam. This one-shot ties into a greater D/s AU where both Sam and Riley are doms.





	talk to me tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Kicking off my kink bingo squares! I'm going for a blackout. Also, this particular fill is part of a larger series that I and another author will be filling out over the next few months.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [CaptBarnes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captbarnes/pseuds/captbarnes/).

“Godfuckingdammit!” Riley shouts as soon as the door is closed behind them. “I could have gotten them both! Who the fuck does he think he is, making calls like that?”

Sam just shakes his head as he unties his boots. He doesn’t disagree. Martinez made a bad call and someone died for it. It wasn’t the first. He knows it won’t be the last. 

“You don’t have anything to say?” Riley snarls as he hurls his second boot over to the first by the door. 

Sam tenses up. “The fuck you want me to say man? I agree. He fucked up. You want me to cry over it?”

Riley runs his fingers through his still damp hair and lets his head fall back as his fingers curl around the nape of his neck. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”

Sam nods. He doesn’t know either, if he’s being honest with himself. Instead, he changes the subject. “You’re riled up and you’ve got a crash coming at this rate. You wanna put me down, or you wanna bitch about this shit all night?”

The moment Riley lifts his head Sam can see it. Riley’s eyes go dark, the high strung tension that had him bouncing in his own skin has settled, and there’s a certain way that the whole room seems to quiet and focus when the chatter in Riley’s head starts to fall away. Sam knows that it has to be what Riley sees when Sam doms, but watching it happen has never gotten less fascinating. Riley gives him a hard time about having a psych degree, but given Sam’s interest in dynamics it’s no surprise to anyone who knows him.

When Riley stands, it feels like the air is sucked out of the room, and it pulls Sam’s entire focus to Riley. He knows he’s going up, focusing on his partner this way, but it doesn’t matter.

“Strip. Put your clothes away. Go to the bathroom. Then come kneel; knees and forehead.”

“Yes, Riley,” Sam answers and stands to do as he’s been ordered. 

It doesn’t feel like obedience, though. It feels like Riley has told him what he needs to get level. In that way, it’s the same as putting a sub down. You know their needs, their wants, their cues, and then you take that and follow the script to put them back right. There’s still the helplessness of losing a rescue, of watching them die, but Sam’s focus is beginning to narrow enough that the grief and anger is losing its hold on him. Those things will be back later, he knows, but for the moment, thoughts of Riley and what he can do begin to take precedence.

When Sam comes back, Riley’s waiting and watching. He kneels, knowing what Riley intends to do. Cold, wet fingers rub at his asshole and he breathes out and relaxes into it. Riley pushes one in and asks, “You gonna be good for me, Sam?”

Sam nods against the floor. He’ll have a mark later that they’ll give him shit for in the mess. “Always am, baby,” he answers.

Sam sucks in a sharp breath when Riley’s hand lands hard against his left ass cheek. Sam remembers, as he always does after that first cheeky comment, that Riley is not a fan of sass with his bottoms. 

When Sam doesn’t say anything Riley drags his nails over the spot he slapped. “I’m sorry, Riley. I will be good for you,” Sam replies. The scratching stops and Sam sighs. 

Riley’s hand moves to Sam dick and he’s a little surprised, but not overly optimistic. Riley likes to put him way down before the end. This just means that he has a plan. 

Sam’s breathing out in little moans as Riley works his dick and spreads him with three unforgiving fingers. Riley is thorough, but not exactly gentle. When Riley begins to push in the plug and Sam breathes through the merciless stretch. Sam’s not surprised when both of Riley’s hands come around him and stretch a homemade cock ring around his dick and balls. Sam will never forgive whichever medic gave Riley that length of stretchy rubber tubing.

“Up,” Riley orders. 

Sam stands, feeling the dual sensation of his throbbing dick and the plug in his ass. He walks gingerly to stand under the eye hook in the ceiling of their shipping crate. Riley has already gotten everything ready and Sam watches as he snags the cuffs they improvised out of a tie-down strap. Sam lets Riley put the cuffs on him and feed the rope through the eye hook. He could help, but this is about Riley taking control so Sam stays still.

Sam plants his feet so that Riley gets the right tension on the rope and then waits. 

“Give me your safe words.”

“Red, yellow, and green,” Sam answers.

A calloused but gentle hand runs down Sam’s left side in praise, and Sam shudders. He’s always hypersensitive to touch after a mission. And Riley might be wound tight, but he always takes care of Sam.

“And your color now?” Riley asks quietly.

Sam lets his eyes close, grateful for the touch and the care. “Green, Riley.”

“Good” is Riley’s only reply before the hand vanishes and Sam hears the quiet clink of the chains and rings in their pair of finger floggers.

It’s probably the shittest set of floggers Sam’s ever owned, co-owned rather, but he loves them anyway. They’re a bit stingy, even with the number of falls they have, because he and Riley made them from a tanned goat hide they bought from a local. Turns out goat hide isn’t particularly thick, but they make due.

The first touch is light, just Riley patting his back and his ass with falls grasped in his hands. Sam sighs as the up finally washes everything from his focus but Riley. After a minute, Riley gently checks in with a hand on Sam’s back and Sam nods.

The falls run over Sam’s skin like the laziest paint job ever. Just rubbing this way and that with no real intention or force. Already being hypersensitive, the sensation of rubbing seems to dial all his nerves to eleven. The up mixes with the endorphins of play and his focus begins to expand outside his body. He’s aware, but passively, and he feels as big as the room. It’s not the kind of up he gets when he tops.

Riley doesn’t coddle, but he does give Sam a gentle stroke at the nape of the neck as the falls pull away. It’s a warning that he’s taking it up a notch and Sam lets his head fall forward. 

The first hits are gentle, more pats than slaps. Bit by bit Riley picks up speed and before long the rhythm of Riley moving the floggers in a perfect florentine pattern puts Sam a little farther under. Sam only realizes that he’s outright moaning when the floggers have stopped and it’s suddenly silent. 

“So loud, Sam,” Riley says as he comes around the front of Sam with a rolled up handkerchief in his hand. “We don’t want all of camp knowing how you moan like a dirty little whore for me, do we?”

Sam shakes his head and opens his mouth. Riley slips the cloth between Sam’s teeth. Sam watches Riley as he ties the gag. He’s lost most of the tension and rigidity in his posture. He moves fluidly, his hands deftly tying the cloth behind Sam’s head, and it’s gratifying to Sam to see Riley going up where he needs to be.

Riley stands in front of Sam for a moment, the two of them just watching each other, before reaching out and giving Sam’s nipple a bit of a twist. Sam both is and isn’t surprised, and he moans loud through the gag, his knees threatening to buckle. Riley smirks and does the same thing to the other side. 

Sam’s trying to recover when he hears the sound of the binder clips in Riley’s pocket. He palmed those goddamn clips from a briefing once and has regretted it ever since. 

It’s probably good that Sam’s gagged when Riley attaches the clips because Sam would be cursing a blue streak if he could. Riley chuckles and flicks the clips. 

_Fucking sadist_ , Sam thinks. 

The thought is abruptly gone when Riley begins to twist the clips. Sam screams through his gag, his chest heaving, and Riley lets off. Sam’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t see before he feels as Riley slaps the head of Sam’s dick. 

Sam clenches down, as though that’ll help the brief flare of pain, and is immediately reminded that he’s rock hard and throbbing. He’s also reminded that he’s plugged and suddenly his body feels too much. What had become background noise to the scene is suddenly very intense and there’s so much sensation that he whines into the gag.

“Breathe, Sammy. Breathe. You can take it. Being good for me, huh?” Riley says. It’s almost soothing, but Sam hear the hint of glee in Riley’s voice. He’s always been an asshole sadist and Sam knows this is getting him off.

Sam focuses on breathing, like Riley told him to because it’s sound advice. The blood rushing in his ears means that Sam doesn’t hear Riley move away, but he knows anyway. The up is still pushing his senses outside his body.

The flogger seems almost gentle when Riley starts again, but it’s not long and Riley is snapping the ends of the falls against Sam’s skin. It really fucking stings and Sam breathes through it as best he can because this is for Riley, and he lets the focus carry him through.

Slowly, Riley turns up the intensity. He eases up for a few strokes and then comes back harder each time. Sam’s rocking forward on his feet with the force of the hits. But when the next strike doesn’t land Sam gasps.

The sound of the floggers landing on a bed registers somewhere in Sam’s mind. 

“Give me your color,” Riley orders. 

Sam hears the single minded focus in Riley’s voice. The command suffused with affection and devotion. 

Sam takes a moment to decide and catch his breath. “Green,” Sam finally mumbles around the gag.

A second after Sam’s answer their little snake whip cracks next to Sam’s head. It’s a warning and a question, all that Riley is gonna give him. But Sam plants his feet and grabs the cuffs in reply.

Riley had called Sam “boy” one time, when they first got together. Sam wasn’t mad. It was a common endearment, but he’d only ever been called “boy” in one way in his life and he didn’t want to think of people like that when he was with Riley. Riley had been more than understanding.

So it came as a surprise when Sam came into the barracks one day to find Riley braiding a whip from paracord.

“I didn’t know you were into whips,” Sam said.

Riley shrugged. “Making it for Brendan.”

Sam sat on the bed beside him. People don’t learn to make tools they don’t like. “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, it’s not my thing, but I’d try it.”

Riley stopped and looked up. “Well, I mean, a white guy whipping a black guy? Can’t be any better than calling you ‘boy.’”

Sam laughed. “Well, I haven’t exactly been whipped. It doesn’t remind me of anything.”

It hadn’t been long after that they had tried it. It was a helluva lot stingier than Sam liked but the look on Riley’s face at the end of it made it worth every lick.

Sam keeps that in mind, enduring for Riley’s sake, as the hits land. And unlike the pain of the floggers, which evens out after enough hits, the whip is agony on every stroke. Hit after hit Sam bites into the gag until, in the span of what feels like five hits, he’s floating. Every hit sends him down further into bottomspace until the bright flares of pain feel like waves washing over him, and the pain becomes just another sensation in a sea of sensation.

Sam has no idea how long Riley whips him, but by the end he doesn’t care and isn’t able to tell anyway. This time when Riley stops, Sam is so far under he doesn’t have a single coherent thought about it.

“Give me a color,” Riley orders.

Sam blinks lazily and looks into Riley’s eyes. 

“Sammy,” Riley says again in a gentler tone. “I need your color, baby.”

Riley puts a hand on Sam’s face and rubs his thumb over Sam’s cheek bone. “Come back up a little,” he says again.

Sam carefully pries his fingers from the cuff strap and makes the sign for “G” with his index finger and thumb. Even without the gag, Sam wouldn’t have had the wherewithal to say anything.

Riley smiles. “Good. I’m gonna fuck you now, Sammy. Just like you like it. But you gotta keep the gag. We both know you moan like a bitch in heat. Now, I’m gonna let you down nice and easy. Lean on me.”

Sam leans forward against Riley, the binder clips painfully digging into his chest and pulling at his nipples. His dick rubs against Riley’s ABUs and Sam rocks into the sensation, pleasure zinging through his body.

Riley slaps a rough hand down on Sam’s ass. “Did I say you could do that? Wait and you’ll get yours.”

Sam moans loud and long and nods his head on Riley’s shoulder as the last knot comes loose and his hands drop, still tied together, around Riley’s neck. Riley ducks out from under Sam’s arms and herds him towards his bed, letting Sam drop on the edge.

As soon as his ass hits the bed, Sam keens. The sensation after the flogging and then the whipping mixed with the press of the plug is all encompassing and not enough.

“Easy. Lie down for me,” Riley directs as he pushes Sam back and helps him get situated. Once Sam is down, Riley pulls his undershirt off and unzips his ABUs, pulling them down just enough to get his dick out. 

Sam can see that Riley’s hard, probably has been for a while, and he slicks himself liberally. Sam hisses through his gag as Riley lifts his legs up, knees over shoulders, from the friction on his back. Wet fingers grab the plug and pull, and Sam relaxes. He gasps as Riley pulls the plug free. 

The slick fingers press in, adding more lube, before retreating. Riley is already right there and he only has to lean forward to press the head of his cock to Sam’s ass. Sam grunts and bears down for all he’s worth, because even though he’s been plugged and then lubed up, it’s still a stretch, and Riley never babies him.

Sam clenches his fists, hand still tied together in front of him, as Riley bottoms out. 

“Fuck, Sammy, god your ass,” Riley grits out. He doesn’t stop to relish in the sensation, though, and Sam’s mouth gapes around the gag, panting, as Riley sets up a brutal rhythm. Riley knows, he always knows, that not having time to adjust pushes Sam to his limits, and this time is no exception.

Sam’s prostate is taking a beating and his cock is starting to drip precome. Each thrust makes it bounce against his belly again and again. Sam flexes his fists to keep his hands off of himself. 

“You want it so bad, don’t you baby?” Riley pants. Sam nods fervently and Riley “rewards” him with a twist of the binder clips. Sam bites the gag, his back arching with the sensation. Riley finally lets off and Sam glares at him. Riley just laughs, never breaking his rhythm. 

Sam’s cock throbs in time with the fucking and his heartbeat, which is racing. They’re both dripping sweat and Sam is nearly over-sensitive with need, even though he’s still untouched. 

“You want it, Sammy?” Riley asks and Sam nods. “You gotta work for it then. I’m not untying your hands. Make it work.”

Sam’s gotten himself off in more awkward ways. He’s lived in barracks without privacy for years. This is no hardship. Sam wraps both hands around his dick and begins to stroke. He’s close to coming almost instantly and makes himself slow even though it’s the last thing he wants right now. 

Riley’s getting close, Sam can tell. His rhythm isn’t fluid anymore, it’s getting clipped, and his neck muscles cord as he goes harder. Sam knows he only has to hold off a little longer. And after another few hurried thrusts, he’s proven right.

“Come for me,” Riley pants as he pushes through his orgasm for Sam’s sake.

Immediately, Sam does as he’s told, gripping himself tighter and stroking faster. He moans loud as he starts to come and without warning Riley rips the binder clips off without releasing them first. The simultaneous pain and relief rips through Sam along with his orgasm and he can’t do anything but scream around the gag, Riley fucking him through all of it.

When Sam lets himself go, Riley gives him another couple hard thrusts just because he’s a sadist like that, before slowly easing himself free.

“Gimme your color, Sammy,” Riley asks, carefully removing the cockring. Sam signs “G” again and Riley smiles as he releases Sam’s hands from the cuffs. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that? Are you sure I didn’t hurt you too bad?”

Sam shakes his head and signs “G” again as Riley finishes untying the gag. 

Riley sits up a little beside Sam and rubs his wrists one by one. Sam’s wrists are chaffed and sore and the rubbing brings his awareness to them, the other sensations turning into background noise for the time being. When Riley’s done with Sam’s wrists, he moves to his nipples. 

“Fuck!” Sam shouts.

Riley laughs and smiles, but doesn’t stop. “Come on, you know they’ll hurt less later if I rub out the soreness now.” Sam grunts his disagreement and fists his hands in the covers until Riley’s done. 

“Okay, lemme grab a wet rag. You roll over on your side for me,” Riley says. It’s still laced with authority, but less stern than before. 

Sam’s curled on his side, nearly asleep, when Riley’s hand rests on his hip. “Hey, baby. I’m gonna clean you up and then put some lotion on you, okay?”

Sam murmurs something that Riley must take for agreement because he goes on ahead. First, he cleans Sam’s hands and stomach, and then Sam’s ass. Sam hisses, but god he’s so tired and boneless that he can’t fight it. Riley’s gentle, though. The contrast between Riley the sadist and Riley the lover isn’t lost on Sam, and he warms to the way that Riley shows him best that he loves Sam.

Sam can hear Riley rubbing the lotion in his hands for a few moments as he warms it up before his hands over Sam’s back. Sam hisses and moans at once, unsure whether to push into the touch or pull away. 

“Be still,” Riley reminds him, and that helps Sam make his choice. It doesn’t take Riley long to check Sam over and tend to his back and ass. 

Riley waves a piece of protein bar in front of Sam’s mouth. “Open.” Sam knows it’s the nearest thing to candy he’s gonna get until he gets another care package from his folks, and Riley’s sharing something precious. Bit by bit Sam eats the entire bar in between sips of water from his water bottle that Riley holds up to his lips. 

Riley strokes Sam the entire time. Down his side. On his shoulder. Over his closely shaven head. Being patient and taking all the time that Sam needs to eat and drink his fill. When Sam is done, Riley sets everything off to the side and settles in behind Sam, pulling the blanket over them both.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Riley asks against Sam’s ear. Sam’s almost asleep but he nods and “mmm”s in agreement.

Riley pulls Sam tight against him and presses his forehead to Sam’s back, just between his shoulder blades. “Thank you for this, baby. I love you so much.”

“Mmm, love you too, baby. Go to sleep,” Sam mutters and Riley laughs.

“Yeah, alright. Go to sleep. We can always talk in the morning.”


End file.
